


The Thing Called Hope

by Snowfire (Snowdream)



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2021-01-03 23:40:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21187916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snowdream/pseuds/Snowfire
Summary: The end of the war is supposed to be joyous and full of hope. Hope is supposed to be light and pure, few know that hope can also be dark and deadly. Hope is determined, stubborn and contagious not to mention imbedded in the spark and processor of everything living. Here's to the hopeful future of the Cybertronian race.





	1. Homecoming

Snowfire lies beside his bonded on the ground of the planet they landed on, a planet called Earth. It has to be one of the most beautiful planets they had visited, even though at times it could be disgusting. He trails random patters with his claws over the red and blue flame armor the Prime has donned for this planet’s camouflage. His own glows in the moonlight. Optimus is quiet as they look up at the stars. He doesn’t blame the Prime for not talking about what is happening; he’s not speaking of it either. 

The Decepticons were losing, the Autobots were winning. Megatron has stopped all raids and all war activities to try and figure out what is going wrong. Starscream, Carrier and Shockwave are in constant meetings with the warlord. The Prime’s EM field is calm around his, this may be the last time he ever gets to be with the Prime. if the majority of the Autobots got their way, the Decepticons would be thrown in a pit and forgotten about. The Decepticons fought for freedom, yet Optimus fought for freedom as well. Some of the Council prior to the war have survived on Cybertron and are trying to regain control, without the Prime’s approval though they have no funding or ability to do anything. 

Optimus’ digits trail along his sides slowly, just like his claws. Both of them lost in their own thoughts while sharing each other’s presence. They may never have this chance again. He rests his helm on the Prime’s shoulder causing the Prime to glance over at him. 

“Snowfire, I will do everything I can to make sure the Decepticons are treated fairly,” the Prime promises, he’s never doubted the Prime wouldn’t do that. Optimus is different from previous Primes, Megatron just can’t see that yet. “I will need someone by my side to help me determine that,”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Prime,” he frowns, he doesn’t want to get his hopes up for something to have it torn away. Optimus takes his helm in servo, pulling him in for a kiss. He wants to believe the Prime, believe his bonded. Believe that everything will work out and be fine. It won’t, he knows that. That’s what hope does. It lures you in, gives a small promise then it tears it all apart. 

The council mechs who survived won’t let the Prime keep the lethal assassin by his side. No, they will pick a timid less lethal, less outspoken mech who would be a slave better than an advisor.

His comm. pings with Carrier’s frequency and a message to return to base. Optimus flinches under him just as Megatron’s frequency pings with a message calling all Decepticons to return to base. Optimus shifts to stand over him, pain in those calm blue optics. The red chestplates part a bit and sparklight shines through. He can feel Energon tears well up in his optics as his own part and they become one, just for a moment. Just enough of a kiss of hope. Optimus’ lipplates find his briefly before the Prime pulls away. 

“I love you, don’t ever doubt that,” Optimus cups his helm as their chestplates close. “I will do everything in my power to provide a fair and just Cybertron. I will not stop even if it throws our species back into a war.” 

Fragging Prime and his spark full of hope. 

He nods and Optimus stands, pulling him up to his pedes and stealing one more kiss before the red and blue mech walks towards the road that will take him away forever. Transforming and racing off to the base, he lands moments later and Carrier stands at the door. Facemask and visor hiding any emotion but he can see the solemnness in the other’s frame. Something big, something bad is about to happen. Their fate lies in the Prime’s servos. 

“Megatron has come to the conclusion of a . . . surrender,” Soundwave says leading him into the base. Megatron will address the whole army later on but Carrier always tells him about stuff before. Carrier wraps him up in his arms and he realizes that he’s shaking. “Optimus will make sure you are fine, Snow. He loves you, anyone can see that. We all deserve whatever the Prime decides. We are his and Cybertron’s enemies. I can no longer protect you, that is his job now.”

“What if he . . . the council demands executions?” he trembles against carrier’s frame. He feels like a sparkling, someone unable to do anything but break down. 

“The Prime must approve of anything the Council or Senate, whoever is appointed, puts forward,” Soundwave says pressing a kiss to the top of his helm. They reach the command center and nearly every Earth based Decepticon is standing below the Command Bridge. Soundwave leaves his side to climb the stairs and stand next to Megatron’s left. The tri-colored seeker stands to Megatron’s right and Shockwave comes to stand beside Soundwave. 

He wipes the Energon tears from his faceplates, gaining the attention of Starscream who looks to Soundwave in fear. Soundwave shakes his helm a bit in dismissal. The seeker probably thought his emotional state was a result of the Prime refusing to help the Decepticons. 

“As many of you know by now, Cybertron is online and few mechs have survived, some of who are part of the Council and Senate,” Megatron starts. “They have sent a message, one that states the ceasefire and homecoming of peace or the hunting of all Decepticons. I have spoken with the Prime and have agreed to surrender the Decepticon army into his servos by this planet’s dark cycle. I know many of you will want to protest. I have been informed by my command staff that this Prime is different than previous Primes and has the best interest of all of Cybertron in his spark. I cannot order you to follow me into the unknown like this but be warned, if you do not surrender you will be hunted and deactivated.”

Whispers of protests start spreading like fire around him. He backs away and runs to his shared quarters with Carrier. His comm. pings with a notice to pack whatever you need for the trip to Cybertron. The command staff will be leaving to go to the Autobot base and the Autobbot command staff will be boarding the Nemesis to take it back to Cybertron. Soundwave sends a message that he will be coming with the command staff and to pack all their things. 

He sends his symbionts to gather everything and set it in the living room. No one speaks. Tears are shed silently as their possessions pile on the floor. He packs them into subspace containers. He helped the Decepticon scientists and engineers create them after Megatron learned that he had made some for himself. Of course he provided Optimus with the same information whether the Prime gave it to his scientists or not is a different story. 

Their things now lie within small disks that fit in armor pockets on his frame. Soundwave could have very well and came and gotten his stuff, instead he has all their belongings. He freezes midstep out of the quarters, Carrier doesn’t expect to survive. Carrier plans on being executed. 

“All grandcarrier’s symbionts were in cassette form in his office in a portable docking system,” Anchyr lands on his shoulder. “He left them to you in case something happens.”

He frowns, trembling and falling to the ground. Only a host who expects to deactivate leaves their Symbionts to another host. Carrier new well before Megatron’s speech. His comm pings with Soundwave’s message of their leaving. He wipes the tears from his faceplates before running to the doors. Anchyr returns to his slot by the time they reach the hallway. Mechs stand at the doors. Megatron, Starscream, Shockwave and Soundwave, Optimus Prime, Prowl, Jazz, Ironhide and Ratchet. Optimus meets his optics before glancing back at Megatron.

When he approaches the group, Ratchet steps up to him and he steps back a bit. The Autobot medic grabs his servo and disables his weapons. Prowl and Jazz step into the Nemesis and head to the command deck. Ironhide steps up to the command staff and places them in stasis cuffs. Optimus steps up to him against Ratchet’s approval and places him in stasis cuffs. He frowns when the buzz of stasis and locking portions of his frame doesn’t come. He knows Optimus knows how to use them. 

They are lead to the Autobot ship, The Ark. The Autobots stare at them as they line the hallways. He walks closer to the Prime and notices the shift in Ratchet and Ironhide. Optimus’ calming field brushes over him promising everything will be alright. He wants to believe in that. He really does with every pulse of his spark. 

He glances up to meet Bumblebee’s optics, the scout looks confused and glances up to the Prime. They near the brig and are led into cells apart from one another. Optimus sits him down on the berth and unlocks the cuffs. The Prime glances back to see Ratchet and Ironhide talking to the other Decepticons. Optimus cups his helm, lipplates crashing together. 

He notices Shockwave staring at them. He knows Starscream and of course Carrier knew about the Prime and him but Shockwave was never told. Optimus pulls away and steps out of the cell, locking the doors as he does. When the Autobots leave Shockwave stands and walks to the wall of his cell closest to his. 

“Snowfire and the Prime are consorting—“ Shockwave begins, Megatron looks at him optics turning molten. 

“Snowfire’s the only reason we are not going to a pit and forgotten about,” Starscream says rolling his optics. “If Snowfire wasn’t bonded to the Prime we all would have been deactivated in the Nemesis. The Prime is going to keep his precious bondmate safe from harm and that means he has to treat every other Decepticon with the same amount of fairness.”

“You knew about this Starscream!” Megatron yells and growls at the seeker. 

“Only after i overheard Soundwave talking with his creation,” Starscream smirks and Soundwave glares under the visor. Megatron just stares at the Decepticons. 

“You are the reason we lost the war,” Megatron growls at him, getting close to the bars. 

“No Megatron, Snowfire had no part in the end of the war,” Optimus says making every Decepticon jump and looks at the Prime. “Snowfire never wanted the war to end, he knew one side would claim victory and our relationship would be strained. I am the one who told Snowfire to go to the Decepticons. He enjoyed deactivating mech, the Prime couldn’t have that kind of mech in his command. I gave up my happiness to let Snowfire have some sense of purpose. The war is over because the Council and Senate have reestablished communication to the Autobot forces across the universe and demanded we come back to Cybertron and rebuild. They want justice and they are not against hunting the Decepticons down and having your helms on spikes. I believe when we return and you are in my custody that they will be pleased enough for us to move forward into a reforming stage. We are all Cybertronians above any faction. We all want peace and freedom.”

“You’re going to reprogram us? Make us into slaves? Force us to rebuild Cybertron for you and your Autobots?” Megatron growls, pacing the cell. He frowns at the Prime’s flinch. The Decepticons will be slaves. Optimus lied. They will be forced to rebuild Cybertron and watch as the Autobots live freely. He jumps and cries out when he’s wrapped in the Prime’s arms. 

“All of us will rebuild Cybertron, Autobots and Decepticons, side by side,” Optimus says rubbing his back. Megatron glares at them. “The Decepticon will have to prove that they are not a threat to the peace but I want everyone to live freely and peacefully on a united Cybertron. I want to hold my bondmates servo as we walk down the streets, when we go shopping. I want to be able to not fear that he will be harmed because he chose to love an archivist who happened to become the Prime. I want to raise our sparklings on Cybertron and not just have to tell them about the world we came from and tell them that they may never see it. I want them to play with other sparklings freely and not have to lie about where they came from or why they are mysteriously found. I cannot do this alone, the Decepticons need to help me achieve this.”

“The Council and Senate will never allow you to do this,” Megatron says. 

“The Council and Senate have never met me before,” Optimus says, a glimmer in the Prime’s optics causes him to frown. Optimus was appointed Prime after the Council and Senate fell and Sentinel was deactivated. They only know him by designation. “They expect a weak spark, hardened by war and unable to see the truth of what Decepticons were fighting for. They don’t expect a Prime who is bonded to the most lethal assassin Cybertron has ever seen and Decepticon who never let the archivist in me forget what it was like for mechs who didn’t have a steady function, who onlined in the outskirts of society. Snowfire and I both dream of the same Cybertron and I will do everything to get that Cybertron.” 

Megatron is silent but continues to glare at them. Optimus turns to him, cupping his faceplates. 

“I will return once we approach Cybertron,” Optimus says before pressing a kiss to his lipplates. He watches the Prime leave and turns away from the other Decepticons. He can feel their disappointed glares, their hated looks. 

The ride to Cybertron is quiet, he’s fallen in to recharge many times and never once looked back at the others in the cell behind him. He no longer feels the glares or looks at his back. The others have been quiet as if waiting for any moment an Autobot to burst in and deactivate them. 

He jumps and hears the others shift when the brig door opens. Optimus must be returning. The pede falls are lighter than the Prime’s and he glances over his shoulder when they stop in front of his cell. The yellow and black scout stands there, bright blue optics looking over his frame. 

“I-I know this isn’t the time but . . . was Barricade on the Nemesis?” Bumblebee asks. He knew Bumblebee bonded to Barricade when they first landed on Earth. The two scouts were the first mechs on the planet, how could they not come to some kind of agreement to survive together. He nods a little, Barricade was one of the mechs in the back who didn’t look too pleased at the surrender. 

The doors open and Optimus steps into view. Cybertron, they’re almost home. Optimus frowns at Bumblebee. 

“Bumblebee, return to your post,” the Prime says and Bumblebee walks back to the door. Optimus steps up to his cell and unlocks the door, stasis cuffs are put on and he’s pulled out of the cell. 

“So that’s how this is going to be, you take your bonded out of his cell—“ Megatron starts. 

“I’m taking him to spend the dark cycle with him before our landing as well as finalize our plans for me to take them to the Council and Senate,” Optimus glares at the Decepticon leader. “Unless you rather I go with notes and possibly lose the argument that gives you your freedom. Either way I will get my bonded free.”

Megatron snaps his mouth shut and Optimus leads him out of the brig. The Prime leads him to his quarters. Once he’s in and the door locks, the stasis cuffs are removed, Optimus cups his helm and backs him to the wall. Lipplates catch his and glossa slides along his lipplates. Optimus frowns when he doesn’t do anything. 

“You don’t expect the Decepticons to be free,” he looks down at the floor, why else would the Prime want to spend their last dark cycle together. Optimus frowns down at him. 

“Snowfire, I meant what I said to Megatron, I want to spend the dark cycle with you, as bonded and as the future rulers of Cybertron,” Optimus pulls him to the couch. “I need a strong plan for the Council and Senate to even hear my idea. From there I can provide the path for Decepticons to be free and retake the Council and Senate and place mechs who will make Cybertron grow.”

As much as he wants to believe the Prime, it will be nice to have one whole dark cycle to spend with Optimus. He nods and Optimus starts trailing kisses along his neck. 

He onlines joors later to find Optimus reading over a data-pad on the berth, the Prime’s faceplates in a grimace. Bad news. The Decepticons won’t get their freedom. They’ll be slaves. Forced to obey Autobots in any and all orders. Optimus meets his optics, faceplates softening to a neutral expression. 

“The process will be slow and many Decepticons will be left in brigs and prisons around Cybertron for war crimes, but they should all be freed eventually,” Optimus says. Right, of course they would be locked up for war crimes, not like the Autobots hadn’t done the exact same things as the Decepticons. But Autobots were the war heroes. 

“I think . . . I think we should dissolve the bond, I don’t want to bring you down in the Council and Senate with them possibly thinking I’m controlling you,” he says sitting on the edge of the berth with his hack to the Prime. He could be seen as influencing bad ideas to the Prime. Bonds could be controlled with strong willed sparks. An unbonded Prime is less likely to be swayed by their frivolous bonded. 

“I will not dissolve our bond,” Optimus says, servos holding his arms. “I would destroy the Matrix before I would destroy us. We need to be united in our stand against the corrupt government. We need to bring the light back to Cybertron and only together can we achieve this. You speak for the Decepticons and I speak for the whole of Cybertron. Snowfire, we are stronger together.” 

Optimus turns his helm a bit, lipplates brushing against his. How could the Prime not see that he could bring him down? 

“I need to take you back to the brig before we land,” Optimus says kissing down his back and along his wings. “We land in a few joors.”

He smirks at the wall as the Prime’s servos slide around his hip armor. Glossa slipping into the gaps between the cables in his neck, digits find their way to a burning panel. He laughs as Optimus pulls him on the berth and nearly smothers him into the padding. 

When they head back to the brig, Optimus is called away and he’s handed to Ironhide to be escorted back to the brig. Ironhide touches the stasis cuffs before pulling away. Optimus didn’t lock them or online them and he glances back to the black mech with a frown. Ironhide watches him before holding his shoulder and steering him to the brig. 

“Optimus trusts you a great deal, why?” Ironhide as stopping in front of the brig doors. “He allowed you to spend the dark cycle in his quarters. He personally stasis cuffs you and doesn’t even use them.”

“How can you not trust the other half of your spark?” he says looking up at the weapons specialist. The blue optics brighten and Ironhide glances around the hall. 

“You are the mech Optimus said he left behind when he was made Prime?” Ironhide frowns down at him. “He made the guard think that he’d broken it off with the mech and left him on Cybertron. Instead you’ve been on every planet he’s been on. That’s where he disappears to in the darkness. We just thought he needed time to cope with the burden of the Primacy, he was going to see you.”

“Are you going to tell the Council and Senate about it?” he frowns, the government would listen to the Prime’s Guard. The Guard is supposed to protect the Prime from any and all threats, foreign and local. Social and domestic. If Ironhide thought he was endangering the Prime, the guard had every right to make them dissolve the bond. 

“Optimus can handle them, he’s spent vorns studying them,” Ironhide says and opens the brig doors. He’s placed back in the cell and Starscream frowns over at him. Only daring to speak when the guard leaves. 

“Optimus couldn’t even have the decency to bring you back?” Starscream asks gaining the other’s attention. 

“He was called away,” he frowns down at the floor when Megatron’s gaze lands on him. 

“Whatever happens is on you, Snowfire,” Megatron says, carrier glances over at the silver mech. 

“Snowfire acted in the best interest—“ Soundwave starts.

“In himself,” Megatron turns the glower to the third in command. “I never expected to be betrayed by you, Soundwave. Starscream I counted on it, but never you. You share the blame with your out of control creation.”

The brig doors open and Ironhide steps in, “Time to go.”

Bumblebee comes to his cell and locks the stasis cuffs to his wrists but turns it on the lowest setting. “It’s going to be alright Carrier, Sire’s meeting with the mechs now.” 

He nods to the scouts whisper and doesn’t miss Ironhide’s frown. The guard obviously didn’t know he and Optimus had creations or Bumblebee probably wouldn’t be his escort now. The group leaves the Ark and walks out onto Cybertron’s surface. Rust dust cracks under their pedes and they see what has happened to the planet in their absence. 

Rust nearly covers everything in sight. The sky is lit with the star’s light, the air smells acidic. There is the underlying scent of deactivation and rusting frames being carried on the wind. Cybertron looks deactivated. 

They’re taken to one of the few buildings left standing, the Hall of Records. The Hall looks extremely well preserved; the walls only show a little rust. Without Energon flowing around the city-states rust has the opportunity to grow. This must have been the base for the surviving mechs. 

Inside looks as pristine as ever, the golden walls shine and the holopics hanging on the walls look as lifelike as ever. They go through the twist and turns of the hallways. They come to the conference hall to see the remaining Council members and Senate members sit on the balcony seats. He spots Optimus at the pedestal addressing the mechs. Optimus glances back and meets his gaze. The mechs look towards them as they file into the room. 

They stand shackled as Optimus argues to the mechs that in order to rebuild Cybertron they need the Decepticons to be free and as equals but understands that they need to pay for their war crimes and proposes the rebuilding of Cybertron’s infrastructure as the way to work of their debts and sentences. They will stay in the prisons during the dark cycle and during the light cycle they will be working under the supervision of Enforcers. 

The Council mechs and Senate mechs argue that the Decepticons will try and revolt. After all is said and done, the mechs decide that the Prime makes a valid point in needing the Decepticons to rebuild the planet and allows the Prime’s motion. The mechs sign the document and the Prime signs it. Enforcers come to take the Decepticons to the prisons, Optimus appears beside him taking off his cuffs. The Council and Senate speak up asking what’s going on. 

“I am taking my bonded home, he will serve out his sentence under house arrest,” Optimus turns to the mechs before putting his servos on his shoulders and steering towards the door. “It’s all labeled in the document my recommendation of how each mech should serve. As the leader of the Autobots I have had first servo experience with the mechs involved in the war.”

“You are a Decepticon sympathizer,” one of the Council mech’s says. 

“What good is a Prime if the Prime doesn’t listen to all of his people?” Optimus says and moves him to the door faster than needed. “The Document says all mechs, Autobots, Decepticons and Neutrals are to contribute to the society. Every mech needs a job in rebuilding Cybertron.”

“Who will hire Decepticons?” he frowns as the Prime takes his servo as they leave the Hall. 

“Everyone has to find a job, they will have to hire whoever has the ability to fulfill a job,” Optimus says pulling Snowfire to his frame. “I have waited so long to hold you on the streets of Cybertron again.”

Optimus cups his helm and kisses him. A few mechs around stare at them but go on about their business. He frowns a little. What is he supposed to do? His hobbies before the war won’t allow him to contribute much. He was an assassin even before the war. No way would they allow him to become an Enforcer. What else could he do?

“We’ll figure it out next orn,” Optimus says kissing his helm and leading him to the building they will be calling home until the Prime Estate is rebuilt. He frowns, did he say all that out loud? Optimus unlocks the apartment, handing him a copy of the key and pulls him in their new home. Optimus picks him up, glossa finding his nearly immediately. 

“What happens to Carrier?” he asks when Optimus starts kissing down his neck cables. Optimus pulls away a bit to look at him. 

“He will serve a vorn in prison while rebuilding the communications network alongside Blaster and Cosmos. “He will be alright.”

Snowfire onlines in the middle of the dark cycle, frowning as he sits on the berth and looks back to see Optimus in recharge. He’s never online next to Optimus since the war started. Standing, he goes to the office in their apartment and sees the console. He could look at the possible jobs listed, put in a few applications. Typing up his skills and abilities the search takes a pulse or two. The results come back to Energon refinery, Energon server, Energon preparer, clean-up mech, miner and pleasure mech. He frowns at the last one. Optimus would allow the legalization of buy mechs? 

“It was one of the bargaining items to allow my document to be signed,” Optimus sighs kneeling beside the chair. “it is purely voluntarily and the last option, but they insisted it be legalized. I never outlined any Decepticon to have that as a job and told them that none will be allowed into that position without my approval and interview of them.”

“Well, couldn’t I just be your personal buy mech?” he turns to Optimus, claws sliding up the mech’s chest and neck. Optimus smirks and looks down at him. 

“As much as I would love that, you need something more productive than sitting on my berth and waiting for me to come home after my duties,” Optimus cups his helm. “You would be bored out of your processor.”

He puts in his application to Energon server and preparer, they sound easy enough. Optimus takes his servo and drags him back to berth. 

“Now show me what a little buy mech like you could do to a big Prime like me,” Optimus smirks, laughing a bit as he falls back on the berth from a little shove of a white servo. He crawls on top of the Prime’s frame before smirking and slipping claws into the Prime’s armor seams. Optimus screams out as he tickles wires un the sensitive area. Optimus laughs trying to catch his white servos. 

He onlines over the Prime’s frame as light comes in from the window. He has a comm message from the employer wanting him to come in for an interview. He leans up and presses a kiss to the Prime’s lipplates before heading to the washracks. When he steps in he sees the supplies to remove insignias. Of course they would have to remove them. He touches the silver Decepticon insignia. He always loved when Optimus traced in when they were cuddling, he always traced Optimus’ dreaming of what could have been without factions. They were supposed to be discarded, smelted down and removed from existence. 

Frowning as he rests his digits over the insignia. He’s never known anything without the insignia. Carrier was a Decepticon even before he was created. A Decepticon is all he knows. He frowns when he sees the Autobot insignias already on the counter in a bag for disposal. Optimus already removed his? He picks up the silver insignia, it matches his chest one perfectly. Energon tears fall to his arm and he wipes his faceplates. Optimus had three insignias on his frame, would they really miss one in disposal? He has three as well, two on his wings, one on his chestplates. 

He removes the one on his chestplates to hold against Optimus’. These would be the ones he would want to keep, the ones that they both played with in their stolen moments. 

“I’m sure they wouldn’t miss them,” Optimus says quietly from the doorway. He jumps and nearly throws the insignias. He looks at the Prime, noticing that the Prime doesn’t look any different with or without insignias. Optimus helps him remove the ones on his wings. Optimus rubs his wings until he folds them down into his back plating. 

“I have an interview with the employer,” he says as Optimus takes the bag of the insignias. He puts his in the subspace containers in his frame. “Wish me luck.”

“Good luck,” Optimus says pressing a kiss to his helm and letting him go. He starts the wash and cleans his frame before heading to the business. He frowns as he stands in front of the entertainment center. It’s a club, catering and after hours a buy mech building. Before the war it held large events for the nobles. He walks in the building, turning down his audios as the music blares and he makes his way through the mechs partying. He finds the office and the manager. 

The interview goes well, at least he thinks it does and the mech seems nice enough. He has a few more forms to fill out and he frowns when he gets to the question of his faction during the war. His spark falls and he feels Optimus’ automatic pulse of love. So much for him to get hired if a mech asks what his faction was. He answers it and hands the form to the mech and turns to leave. 

“Where are you going?” the manager asks frowning to him and he glances back to the mech. 

“I’m a Decepticon, was, you probably don’t want to hire me,” he frowns, back to square one. The manager stands and walks over to him. 

“We have a couple of Decepticons working here,” the manager says. “I think you work well in here, I’m Exocent.”

“Thank you for giving me a chance,” he says and Exocent gives him a tour of the place before he’s headed home to tell Optimus the good news. He gets into the kitchen of the apartment to make Energon for them. He takes the cube into the office to see Optimus sitting behind the console, data-pads piled over the desk. Optimus looks up at him, setting down everything in his servos and taking the cube. He sits on the Prime’s lap. 

“High grade?” Optimus smiles. “I take it you got the job then?”

He nods and Optimus clinks their cubes together before taking a sip.


	2. Finding a place

Two vorn after their homecoming, many Decepticon prison terms have been fulfilled and they have been released and gotten jobs. Soundwave works for the communications network with his symbionts. Megatron works in private security for businesses. Shockwave works as a lab assistant. Starscream has been renamed winglord of Vos and now sits on a high throne, only one rank below the Prime. Barricade has reenlisted to the Praxian Enforcers alongside Prowl. Jazz own a club in Praxus. Bumblebee owns a shop in Praxus. Ultra Magnus has been named advisor to the Prime. Ratchet is now the head of many medical centers in the Iacon region. Ironhide continues to be the Elite Guardsmech of the Prime. He’s the only former Autobot, who isn’t the Prime or his creations that he sees. He only sees Soundwave of the Decepticons anymore. 

His work was fun for the first vorn then it started. It being the mechs who are hired after him decide that they’re too good to do actual work and mostly play on gaming devices or text others, anything but their actual work. Exocent has become more dependent on him to do most of the work the others can’t do, even though it’s their job to. Exocent has hired an assistant manager but the mech didn’t work out. One orn the assistant manager left the keys and a note saying he was leaving and was never heard from again. 

Working there for a couple vorn, Snowfire thought that maybe he had a chance to be assistant manager and receive a higher pay than his measly little bit more than minimum wage. A while later of not hearing anything after sending in the application, Snowfire learns that another mech, who was there just a few tredacorns earlier has gotten the position. A mech who Snowfire has seen not doing all of his job. 

He sighs as he gets home, the Prime Estate has been rebuilt and they’ve moved into it. It’s farther than their apartment now so he has even less off time than before. Most orns he barely has any energy to drink the cube Optimus leaves out for him. Optimus is in the study when he comes home and he takes his Energon in there and sees the Prime busy at work. Turning to not disturb the Prime he goes to the berth room, setting the cube on the table and climbing into berth. His vents whine as he lies down. This job is becoming harder than any torture he could possibly think of. 

Exocent has turned the Entertainment Center back into serving the noble now that the nobles are back. The nobles who have unlimited credits and egos to match. He turns on his side, crying into the pillow. Some orns after work he’d think he’d be better off deactivated. These new mechs at work don’t have the mindset of needing to work. They think they can do whatever they want while they’re getting paid. He has to clean up after them, he has to show them where the different prepared Energon is in the cooler. He has to sparkling sit them. He’s gone to Exocent and Freezon, the manager and assistant manager. But Freezon always says the team worked late and didn’t have time. He’s worked late, he’s the one who of the preparers normally always stays late. 

This particular orn Exocent had him cleaning the hallway, putting everything on the shelves and organizing it. In a few orns it will all be a mess again. He might as well be a sparkling sitter. But even sparklings know how to put away their things. He offlines his optics and feels the berth dip down, Optimus’ field washes over him and he feels the soft kiss on his helm. He doesn’t know how Optimus can stand him anymore. He’s not the bondmate he wanted for Optimus. This tired excuse of a mech who is beginning to hate his spark pulse because every pulse means that he has to continue to be in pain.

Sure there are good orns and bad orns, mostly the good orns are the orns he has off but of course that doesn’t help with getting credits. The advisors have adamantly told Optimus to keep their credits separate. Optimus never knew why it mattered but had to make the mechs happy. He never asks Optimus for credits anyway. 

Optimus pulls him closer and wraps his arms around him. He smiles lightly thinking that even through these hard times Optimus still loves him or at least can stand him. His tanks grumble for Energon and Optimus shifts a bit. 

“You need to refuel,” Optimus says nudging him and holding the cube towards him. He frowns at the Energon. Optimus pulls him on his lap and holds the cube up to his lipplates. Great no Optimus has to feed him. He’s no better than a sparkling. Energon tears begin to fall and Optimus wipes them away. He pushes off the Prime and runs into the washracks, locking the door behind him. The hot solvent burns his frame but it makes the dull ache in his struts go away. Optimus knocks on the door. 

“I don’t want to talk,” he yells at the Prime, spark pulsing painfully. If Optimus leaves him, he can’t afford an apartment rent. His pay isn’t a living wage. He cries harder. He’s become a slave. A slave dependent on an Autobot. It’s the caste system all over again and now Optimus is the face of it. 

He onlines on the berth joors later, a few breems before the alarm goes off for him to get ready for yet another orn of slavery. Optimus is already busy in the office with his duties. He washes and sips a cube of Energon before kissing the Prime bye for the shift and heads for work. His frame already aches but he has to forget about that. He could go to the store and get some pain chips. 

He steps into the building and Exocent and all the workers are running around like their helms are cut off. He’d really like to see that but he clocks in and asks what they need. One of the servers didn’t show up, it’s the apocalypse, everything will be calm by the end of the shift. Like always. 

He gets off shift and goes to the store to pick up over the counter pain chips, he’s never really liked them. He wanted to know if something hurt. Pain means something is wrong. Right now though he doesn’t even care if his frame fell into a million pieces as long as it stopped hurting. He takes a couple before opening the Estate doors and goes into the berthroom to put them in the table drawer. Optimus never looked in the drawer. Optimus doesn’t need to know he’s in constant dull pain, where he doesn’t even want to move or stand or sit. 

Optimus comes in and kisses his helm. “Do you want to go out shopping? I know you’ve been busy but Unicron orn is coming up and I know it’s your favorite holiday.”

“I think that’ll be good,” he forces a smile, he just wants to melt in a hot oil bath but Optimus is trying to cheer him up. Optimus takes his servo and leads him to the shopping district. The decorations for Unicron orn are out and he smiles a little. This is cheering him up a bit, his frame doesn’t ache thanks to the pain chips. 

They return home with armfuls of decorations, which are set in the foyer and taken out of bags and placed around the Estate. They’re both laughing by the time they finish and fall on the couch kissing. This is exactly what he needed and he has next orn off. Which means he can cuddle up to Optimus and not have to worry about the hatchlings at work. 

He onlines on the berth to his comm pinging and sees it’s Exocent’s frequency. 

“Hey, Snowfire, one of the servers called in, could you work this orn?” Exocent says, he did only have seven orns this deacorn and normally a full work decaorn is eight orns. 

“Yeah, I’ll be there in a half a joor,” he frowns and sits on the edge of the berth. At least he didn’t have anything important planned for this orn. Optimus sits up when he gets off the berth, frowning at him. “I got called in, sorry for making you online.”

He leaves after a kiss, Optimus gets three orns off. Lucky mech. Gets to recharge late. 

He steps into the building and Exocent is gathering the stuff for an event. He puts one the server uniform and takes over for Exocent. The other servers get their own stuff for the event, of course asking the other preparers where their things are and if their Energon is ready. Shall I hold your servo, the preparers should ask. 

Taking his Energon and additives for his small event, he sets all the stuff out, gets the whole room ready for the noble guests. All by his self like a good little grown up. If it weren’t for Optimus, he doesn’t think that he would still be online. He probably would have offed himself already. 

After the nobles leave, he cleans up the room, drains the unused Energon and straightens and cleans the room before clocking out. He reaches home in half a joor, tired and aching. He should look for another job or else not even Optimus can stop him from using his own dagger. Optimus is in the study working as he passes by and calls out to him, he doesn’t stop but instead goes straight to the berth and falls on it. Before Optimus even walks into the room he’s in recharge. 

Optimus frowns down at the mech. Snowfire hasn’t been acting normal for a while now. He thought it would pass but it seems to get worse. Snowfire hasn’t tried doing any of the hobbies he loved before, writing and drawing and painting. He rarely offers to go do something out of the Estate. He goes to work, comes home, goes to recharge. He’s becoming a drone. Surely preparing Energon can’t be that hard, could it? He climbs on the berth, gathering Snowfire’s fallen frame and holds him, massaging the stiff struts in his bonded’s frame. Snowfire needed an oil bath. He lays the white mech on the berth and starts filling the tub of oil. They could both relax in the warmness of oil. 

He onlines in warmth, it feels so good. He doesn’t want to online in fear it’s just a recharge flux. Optimus’ arms are around him, his helm rests on the Prime’s shoulder. He smells oil and he smiles. Did Optimus bring him in to relax in hot oil? Optimus is the best bonded ever.   
Turning over he hugs the Prime and burying his faceplates in the mech’s neck. 

He onlines on the berth, frame no longer in pain, he frowns when he sees how late he onlined on his orn off. Half the orn is already gone and Optimus is not in the berth with him. Great now he’s recharging all the fragging time. What a lovely bondmate he is. If he were anything close to what a bondmate would be they’d have sparklings running around, he’d be getting the Energon for everyone, tending to Optimus like Optimus is to him. That’s what a carrier of the relationship does. 

Optimus would be much better off finding another mech to bond to, one that would dote on him. One full of energy. 

He needed to look for another job. He walks into the office, Optimus isn’t there. Did the Prime have to go to the Senate Hall? The Council Hall? He gets one the console and looks up places hiring and sends in a few applications, one for a calm small bar, one for a data-pad store and one for a small shop selling crystals. He’s hopeful for them accepting his application, he is a hard worker. 

He gets up and makes Energon for Optimus and him to share later on in the orn. He sits on the couch, turning on the vid screen to watch some shows. 

He onlines on the berth and frowns when he sees Optimus lying beside him, so much for giving Optimus Energon. He’s such a great bondmate.

Tredacorns pass and he hears nothing from the places he’s applied for. No one wants him. No one wants a former Decepticon. Yet there’s always places hiring so why can’t he find a different job. One that doesn’t want to deactivate him. 

He heads to his work, Optimus has already left for the Senate Hall. Maybe it will get better. There’s always hope, isn’t there?


	3. The Beginning of the End

He was wrong, it just keeps getting worse. Apparently he’s got a virus or maybe his frame is just going to quit. In any case he’s freezing. It’s not just a shiver. Nothing he does but pile on the thermoblankets keeps him warm. Of course at work he has his internal heater set on the highest and still he’s freezing and it doesn’t help that he’s the only one who seems to be able to retrieve items from the cooler. Lucky him. 

He’s for sure he can see his vents in the air by the time he gets home and curls up under the blanket fort on the berth. Well his side of the berth. Optimus just has one thermoblanket. Not even warmed Energon can warm him up, he’s tried. Optimus asks if he needs a medic. He doesn’t need to worry a medic for something like chills. No one fragging deactivated from chills. Besides if there was something majorly wrong with him, he’d much rather, at this point, fall over deactivated. 

He onlines to warmth again and finds himself in the hot oil bath, Optimus holds him close and he feels heat radiating off the Prime’s frame. Optimus was trying to keep him warm by setting his external heater on high. He frowns at the Prime, that could overheat the Prime’s systems. How could Optimus be so reckless? 

He walks into the Entertainment Center, it’s a calm orn so far but that could all change by whatever event they had. All he knows is that they have two different kinds of Energon cubes because they had to prep the additives last orn and they have various Energon treats. The fellow preparers are already working, great, he’s going to have to clean up the kitchen. He clocks in and starts working on icing the treats. 

They plate up the treats in the back hallway and hand them to the servers to take out to the rich nobles. This is a served meal. The server comes back with one of the plates. 

“They want another plate,” the server says putting the plate on the table. He frowns at the server, the treat is on it’s side, everything else looks fine. 

“What’s wrong with it,” he asks. 

“The treat fell over on the plate,” the mech says and he stares at the server before reaching to the treat and setting it up right. 

“There, fixed,” he frowns as the server doesn’t take the plate but instead gets a new plate. Under vents, “okay, whatever. Stupid fraggin’ rich noble snobs.”

He can’t believe some mechs are so . . . what is the word he wants, spoiled? That they have to whine about a treat falling over the fragging plate. If he was a server, he would have just picked it up and righted it in front of the mech and hand the plate back. He sweeps and mops the floors, wipes the counter tops off and takes out all the packaging and trash that was left from the orn. It’s dark by the time he’s off work and the air is cold. He shivers as he steps out, turning his internal heater up. 

His lines are nearly frozen by the time he reaches the Prime Estate and he passes by the Prime before falling front first on the berth. 

His frame shakes, the bond pulses. He hears Optimus’ voice and he feels the Prime cup his faceplates. He swats the Prime’s frame. 

“Snowfire, your shift starts in a joor,” Optimus says pulling him to sit up. He groans and onlines his optics. He stares up at the Prime who looks down at him with a frown. He huffs before standing and getting ready. He’s really starting to hate his job. Still some orns are nice, he likes the sometimes not having to work for a couple orns a decaorn but that doesn’t help with credits. 

Sire and carrier would be telling him to get a higher paying job. How can he when no one will hire him? He sighs as he leaves the Estate to head to work, he’s going to be late.


	4. A new beginning?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning, suicidal thought in here.

He’s had it. He’s tired of the ups and downs and the only one doing the work and even doing the stupid mech-sparklings work. He’s going to quit and find a new job. 

But he can’t. He has to have this job. He has to be a contributing member of society. What good would it look for the consort of the fragging Prime to not contribute? A former Decepticon no less. He will stay, even if it deactivates him. He has to make it work. He has to suck it up. 

What was that saying the human had in that movie about the snow and ice maker? Conceal, don’t feel.

He will do that. Conceal his emotions, conceal his tiredness, conceal his pain, conceal that he wants to deactivate after every shift just so he doesn’t have to live with the achy pain and tiredness. Don’t feel. Don’t feel tired, don’t feel pain, don’t feel. He’s a slave. He’s made to work, created just to serve others. 

He looks at the knife he has in his servo for chopping the rust sticks into a dusting texture. How easy it would be just to plunge it into his spark chamber. Just like a baby dagger. It could be over. Optimus wouldn’t find him bleeding out. The Prime would move on and find another, more perfect mate. His creations don’t need him anymore, they’re all living their lives, their perfect easy lives. They were Autobots after all. The heroes. The chosen ones. The perfect ones. 

He chops the rust sticks and after he’s finished puts the blade into the wash machine. One could only dream right?

He returns to the Estate and finds Optimus on the couch watching the vid screen news. He curls up beside the mech and falls into recharge nearly immediately. 

He watches one of the servers play on a gaming device in the back hallway when they were supposed to be bringing back used Energon cubes and plates. Another server treats himself to the Energon treats plated up to refresh the ones out in the room. They weren’t supposed to do that. One of them had been caught by the event contact one orn. He wasn’t here when the mech got reprimanded. He’s sure they just got a slap on the servo and told not to do it again. 

Freezon, walks by and asks him where something is for an event. He bites his glossa from saying something along the lines of ‘use your optics’. The item, an Energon cube of a special high grade sits right at optic level, clearly marked. He stares at the mech before going back to preparing the regular Energon for the dark cycle’s event. 

The Energon is done on time and he cleans up the kitchen. At first he never needed to clock out on break but now he does but yet the mechs who work here go out and stand on the dock and balcony doing whatever mechs do out there without clocking out. He’s so glad he can pay for them to not work. 

He drags his pedes into the estate. It’s late, even the fraggin guards are all in recharge. Optimus probably didn’t wait up for him, frag, this late he wouldn’t wait up for a creation to come home. 

Optimus is probably comfortably in berth, snuggly warm in the thermoblanket. He climbs the stairs to the third floor, nearly pulling himself up by the railing, their living floor. He passes through the living room to get to their berthroom and stops at the doorway. He frowns as Optimus sits there reading a data-pad and working. 

He snorts, humans would call him a robot. He’s about ready to call him a drone if he hadn’t known the Prime’s a real mech. 

“You waited up for me?” he asks in a whisper. Why is he whispering? It’s just Prime and him. Optimus glances up, smiling a little. 

“It’s your orn off next orn, I did the work I had to do next orn while waiting for you,” Optimus sets the data-pad down. “Now we both have next orn off to do absolutely nothing together.”

He knows he has one of Orion’s dorky smiles on his faceplates but he could care less. Optimus picks him up and carries him to the berthroom. He turns off his comm when the Prime taps both of their audials. 

Silence. No one to interrupt them. An orn of peace and quiet and nothing but each other. One can only hope. 

He onlines to warmth but not the oil bath warmth but Optimus’ warmth. The Prime holds him close, his helm tucked under the other’s chin. He could stay like this forever. Just fall into a peaceful deactivation. 

Optimus’ systems online and he’s sure the Prime will want to get up. Optimus shifts and pulls away, he frowns, the perfect moment ruined. 

“I’ll get us some Energon,” Optimus says kissing his helm and tucking him in to the warmth. He snuggles down into the blankets. Optimus returns with four cubes of Energon, the amount of a full orn. Optimus sets them on the table before slipping under the blankets to press up against him. Optimus kisses along his faceplates. The Prime holds him close. 

He trails his digits along the Prime’s frame. Optimus’ digits slide along his sides, down his hips. They brush along his interface panel. They haven’t interfaced since that first orn on Cybertron. He’s a bad bondmate. Optimus deserves someone better. His frame doesn’t heat and Optimus’ digits trail back to his hip.

Glancing up he doesn’t see any hard feelings or upset faceplates on the Prime. 

He spends most of the orn in recharge only onlining when Optimus gives him the Energon. 

Optimus frowns down at Snowfire’s recharging frame. The mech isn’t himself. At first Snowfire began forgetting to clean up after himself then stopped even trying and leaving things lying around. Next he stopped talking about the orn. Then stopped having conversations with him and only talks to him in a response to a question and it’s always only a short response. 

Snowfire has snapped at him multiple times to the point he doesn’t bring stuff up. Snowfire’s said he doesn’t get vacation anymore and that he’s only gotten it two vorns in the four vorns he’s worked. 

Any more of this, he’ll pull Snow from the job and try to get that vibrant mech he fell in love with back. The mech he wanted to live with and love in peace time. 

He onlines when the alarm goes off. Another tiring orn at work. Another orn that chips away at his strength of living. 

Walking into the center, he sees the other preparers already working. Great, he’s clean up mech this orn. Lucky him. All because he hates the Unicron forsaken early joors of the orn like the Primus glitched the others are. 

“Good morning,” the coworker who doesn’t shut up says cheerfully. 

“Morning,” he mumbles. 

“I said good morning,” the mech frowns. 

“I said morning,” he frowns getting ready to do the prep list items. 

“I must have not heard you,” the mech says. 

This mech has to say goodbye, see you next orn, see you later and all at least five times before his aft is gone from the building and he expects a reply each time or he asks if he heard him. 

He really despises pleasantries, the mech who made them should be wiped from the face of history. 

“How was your morning?” the mech says. 

“Good,” he says getting his Energon supplies he’s preparing. The easy lie that makes mechs shut up. The mech keeps talking, pretty much narrating everything he’s doing, sometimes saying it multiple times. Sometimes demanding some kind of response. And if he doesn’t get a response or he’s not a jabberrbox like the mech then there’s obviously something wrong with him. Like he’s suffering an immediate glitch or he’s obviously angry or mad. 

Not that he just doesn’t feel like talking or has the energy to speak. He never knew speaking took so much processor power and energy. 

Concessions are worse than having digits pulled from their sockets. The hurry up and wait. Hurry up and make Energon then wait for the servers to come up to tell him that they need this Energon like right at that astrosecond because their dumb afts didn’t tell the preparers they had half the Energon or anything. 

He doesn’t put it passed the servers eating the Energon themselves as they sit on their afts and watch the event attendee’s mill around. He’s seen it happen before.  
For the past tredacorns Freezon has been messing with his clock in card. Putting it behind others so that he can’t find it. Once or twice he’s thought of giving up this fragging annoying game the aft face was playing and not clock in and then tell Exocent he couldn’t find his card. But then he’d probably forget to tell him and end up working for free. 

Freezon jokes about hiding his card. He forces a laugh but really he wants to pound the mech’s faceplates in. He hates it here. He wants the war back. 

He raises a complaint that the mechs aren’t putting away the display ware and that they’re taking off times off his checks for breaks that he didn’t have time for. 

He’s either going to torture everyone or off himself. Most likely the latter one. 

Freezon comes up to him one orn. 

“Look, you were a good worker but recently you’ve been doing poorly,” the mech says, he frowns at the mech. “We’re going to have to let you go.”

He cries in an alleyway near the Prime Estate. Optimus would have been notified of his firing. He’s such a disappointment in the Prime and the role of Prime consort. He can’t even keep a fragging low paying job. What good is he? He shouldn’t even exist. 

He failed.

He’s no good in peacetime. 

He’s . . . he’s nothing. 

No one cares about him. He’s useless. He’s worthless. He’s a burden. 

A servo cups his cheekplate and he glances up to the Prime. 

“Let’s go home,” Optimus says gathering his limp frame up. 

He stays in berth for a decaorn freezing cold and crying and barely drinking any Energon. He wants to fade. 

Just disappear. Never exist. 

None of the places he’s put applications in for want him. 

He might as well be a buy mech. 

Buy mechs use their frame. A hole to frag. 

But he can’t disgrace the Prime by becoming a buy mech, not to mention Optimus would know it an decline it. 

He . . . he could be Optimus’ though. 

He . . . sparklings were considered contributing. 

Rebuilding the population is actually a vital role. 

Even some buy mechs are allowed to spark up. 

That’s what he’ll do. He’ll get sparked up. 

The Matrix hasn’t chosen any of their sparklings yet to be the heir so they haven’t made one yet. Optimus always says he doesn’t plan on deactivating anytime soon. 

The Prime’s personal buy mech. the most easiest job he can have. Frag his bonded enough to get sparked. He’s done it twenty seven times already. 

Of course most of them are symbionts and prewar didn’t see them as mechs.


End file.
